


Dusty Bones

by Handoverthebooty



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bad Puns, F/M, Ghost!AU, Knock-Knock Jokes, human!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6104491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Handoverthebooty/pseuds/Handoverthebooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about being dead isn't the fact that to most people, you no longer exist. Your family, what little one you had, has already mourned and considers you gone forever, either in some afterlife or just rotting in the ground. Nor is it that you can't do anything about it. There's no going back, no redo at life and the things you did. Once you're dead, you're dead for good. That's not the worst part.</p><p> No, the worst thing is that it's so overbearingly lonely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dusty Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Wow is this an au and a half! i doubt a lot of people will read this but i rly liked writing it sooo
> 
> Idk if ill continue it or leave it as a one-shot with an open ending :,D
> 
> but anyway! i figured id explain some stuff 
> 
> -In this AU, ghosts can't leave wherever they died. 
> 
> -Only certain people can hear/see them.

The thing about being dead isn't the fact that to most people, you no longer exist. Your family, what little one you had, has already mourned and considers you gone forever, either in some afterlife or just rotting in the ground. Nor is it that you can't do anything about it. There's no going back, no redo at life and the things you did. Once you're dead, you're dead for good. That's not the worst part.

No, the worst thing is that it's so overbearingly lonely.

You remember being alive, wanting to be alone most of the time. Besides your brother, you didn't feel like conversing with most people. You recall being tired constantly. If you could reset everything, you'd never leave your brother's side. You'd try harder. But there was no redemption for the dead. What's done is done, and you might as well learn to like being greeted with silence every single agonizing second.

Your death wasn't something to have in the news. You died in your sleep. You remember waking up suddenly. You thought you'd been dreaming when you saw yourself, sleeping in bed. You thought it was a nightmare when you realized you weren't breathing.

It dragged on. You stared at your body, wondering if someone slipped something particularly scandalous in your ketchup this morning. Daylight came eventually, and you were thinking about what a vivid dream this was.

Papyrus walked in.

 _"Wake up, Lazybones!_ " You remember him saying, like he did almost every morning. You -the unmoving you on the bed- didn't move. Papyrus sighed fondly, and you watched as he went to wake you up.

After a minute of him shaking you and calling your name, you notice his facial expression shift. Cheerful to worried, then panicked. You usually can't control your dreams, but you tried anyways. You walked over and said, "Don't worry, bro. _Tibia_ honest, I didn't get much sleep last night." Oh, the pun oppurtunities when your last name is 'Bones'.

Nothing. No hilariously infuriated expression, no exclamations of how lame the pun was. He didn't even glance in your direction. You try to pat his back. Imagine your surprise when your hand literally goes through him. You pull your hand away, backing up until you feel your back hit the wall.

He tries for another minute or two. Nothing. He feels your pulse. 

By the way his breath hitches and he fumbles with his phone for 911, you guess that there wasn't one. 

You try not to think about the things that happened after that. The details were blurry, but you can still see Papyrus having to be escorted out of the house by police officers when he wouldn't leave your side. You remember trying to follow him. The minute you tried to go past the front door and into the outside, it felt like your entire soul was being ripped apart. You screamed and flung yourself back inside, shaking like a leaf. 

You don't cry that day. You think you still wanted to convince yourself that this was a long, drawn-out nightmare. 

You blocked out most of what happened after that.

Papyrus still lived in yours and his house. It didn't last long.

You'd try to speak to him constantly, but it never worked. He went into your room sometimes, just to sit on the bed and cry. The feeling of seeing your brother crying over your death, having to watch him, it made you want to just be done with this whole fucking thing and go away from him, from everything. But the only place you could probably go now was hell. If you were lucky. You became so desperate to communicate with him that you decided to _make_ him notice you. You slammed doors, smashed plates, flung the hung photos on the wall to the ground so hard the glass broke. He really noticed you then. He was terrified. You'd only had a violent breakdown like that once, but it was all it took for him to move.

You were alone. You still didn't cry. No matter how much you wanted to.

You think it's been five years. You're not sure. Time is hard to keep up with when you're no longer in physical existence and all that fun stuff. 

Nothing changes in the years that pass. Cars passing, brief snippets of conversations from strangers walking past the house, those became the only thing you could look forward to. It was torture, in a way. It was evidence that other people were living their lives with their families, having fun, aging, going places...While you're stuck here, probably till the end of fucking time itself. But it also offered some type of change in your stilted existence, and you hold on to all that you can.

Were you supposed to figure out why you're a ghost? You had no idea. Was this all there was? Did you need to do something to go into an afterlife that you hadn't even believed in before this? Was there even an afterlife? You had no idea.

Turns out, being a skeptic against anything paranormal/religious could really fuck you over.

The idea of having to live, or unlive, like this for the rest of time...it really chilled you _to the bone_.

Heh. Puns were still great.

You didn't have anyone to tell them to, though. You missed the groans of despair from your brother, the rare giggle you got if you came across a fellow pun lover.

Having no one to tell them to sure didn't stop you. 

Mostly, you liked to lean against your front door and blast out knock-knock jokes. You were actually doing it right now. It was sad and a little pathetic, but you couldn't give less of a shit if you tried. Talking to yourself isn't the worst thing you've done since you died, that's for sure.

You knocked twice on the door for what had to be the millionth time. You've been doing this for a while. "Knock, Knock!"  
You almost fell over when a soft voice from the other side of the door said, "Who is there?"

"Dishes." You said it automatically, mind still reeling. You...you were talking to someone! They could hear you!

"Dishes who?"

"Dishes a very bad joke." Your voice cracked. Wow, talk about ghost puberty. 

There was a good three seconds of silence, which wasn't unexpected. Looks like the only person you'd spoken to in half a decade wasn't too fond of bad jokes.

You almost slipped and banged your head on the door when loud, boisterous laughter interrupted your racing thoughts. 

"Woah, you really liked that, huh?" 

"Of course! It was very funny." You could tell by the tone of her voice that she was probably smiling. You felt a little faint.

"Thanks. But, ah," You choose your words carefully. "What are you doing at my front door, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Well, I was bug-hunting," Bug-hunting? "And I heard you knocking! I thought it was a little strange that someone was knocking on their own door, from the inside, but I got curious when I heard you talking."

"Gotcha." Your tone stays casual and lazy, no matter how excited/nervous/happy you are right now. "How was your insect hunting going?"

"Not very well, to be honest. All the ones in near reach have gotten too clever for me, I'm afraid."

"Ah."

"But I have a question for you. If you don't mind."

"Ask away." It felt weird to just be talking to someone through a door. This woman was probably getting a lot of weird stares by now. She didn't ask to come in, though, and you were relieved.

"Did you just move in? I have not seen you around."

"I'm..." You scramble for an excuse. "I have a...condition. I can't really come outside, y'see."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She sounded so apologetic, and your eyes stung. 

"It's okay. You get used to it."

"Would a joke make you feel a little better?" She asks, and you might as well be floating on a fucking cloud in heaven by how happy you felt right now. You had so many questions, but for now, they could go unanswered. 

"Hell yeah! Go for it."

"Alright!" She sounds almost as giddy as you feel. "Knock Knock!"

"Who's there?"

"Old lady." 

"Old lady who?"

"Oh, I did not know you could yodel!" 

You're wheezing out laughter no less than a second later.

**Author's Note:**

> Ignore whatever plot holes there are ;v; i just wanted to write some soriel and also some ghosts


End file.
